


Desire

by sffan



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 20:12:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sffan/pseuds/sffan
Summary: Simon lets his desire overcome his common sense.





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for skripka in response to a Live Journal challenge. Her line: "Do you feel that?" I also threw in the image of Simon with his tight white undershirt being pushed up his body by a strong hand that skrippy gave me a few nights ago. She got an early viewing because I made her beta it. Yeah, I know. I made her beta her own drabble. I kinda suck. 
> 
> This fic is from a previous archive, written between 2002 and 2008. No additional changes or edits have been made since it’s original posting date and none will be. A further note, Firefly was my first fandom, there are bound to be rookie mistakes. To preserve my own development as a writer, I am not editing or correcting them. You may find yourself making this face O_o occasionally.

The cold from the bulkhead seeps through his clothes, chilling his back. Jayne’s nimble fingers have already made quick work of the buttons of his vest and shirt, and are currently worming their way under his undershirt. Jayne’s mouth is hot and wet against his, driving all thoughts of the inappropriateness of their present situation right out of Simon’s head.

Simon loves the way Jayne’s hands feel against his skin – large, strong, calloused from hard work and weights, and most importantly, warm – and he arches slightly into the caress. Jayne pushes the tight cotton up his torso, exposing his stomach to the cool air of the ship. One hand slides under the edge of the shirt to pluck at an already hardened nipple, while the other drops to the waistband of Simon’s pants. Simon moans quietly and does absolutely nothing to stop Jayne from opening his pants, despite the fact that anyone walking through the cargo hold could see them.

See *him* with his shirt and vest hanging off one shoulder, pants open, undershirt pushed halfway up his body – exposed on so many levels, with Jayne doing the exposing. He knows he looks thoroughly debauched, his face is red, his lips swollen, and his hair pointing in every direction, and for once in his life he does not care. Doesn’t care how he looks, what others may think – all that matters right now are Jayne’s hands on his body and the way they send warm waves of desire through him, warming him from the inside out.

Jayne kisses Simon one last time and then drops to his knees. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock, one hand holding it steady, while the other hand remains under his shirt, stroking his chest. Simon’s eyes close and his head tips back against the bulkhead with a quiet ‘thunk’ when the wet heat of Jayne’s mouth engulfs his erection. He curls one hand around the back of Jayne’s neck, stroking the short, fine hairs as his hips begin a rhythmic thrusting, almost of their own volition. Jayne sucks harder and Simon bites his lip, trying to remain quiet, knowing that his moans will echo down the corridors, but Jayne is skilled, and soon Simon is mewling in pleasure.

Simon muffles his cries in the crook of one arm as he comes hard into Jayne’s mouth. Jayne licks him clean and presses hot kisses against his stomach before standing. He claims Simon’s mouth, thrusting his tongue deeply into it. Simon sucks the remaining traces of his semen off of Jayne’s tongue and this time it’s Jayne that can’t stop the loud moan he emits.

“Wo tien ah, what you do to me,” Jayne growls, grinding his cock against Simon’s hip. “Do you feel that? I’m gonna to fuck the brains right out of you.”

All Simon can say is, “Yes,” and he pulls Jayne into a desperate kiss. He doesn’t know why Jayne has this effect on him. He thought he liked his men more refined and mannerly, definitely not crude and unbelievably rude, but none of his previous lovers would ever have had him practically begging to be fucked in a corridor, so Jayne must be doing something right.

Mal’s voice comes over the intercom, “Jayne. Report to the bridge.” There’s a slight pause and then, “Now.”

“Fucking hell!” Jayne exclaims. He kisses Simon hard, runs his fingers along his cheek and lips, and then says, “Later, gorgeous,” and walks away swearing a blue streak in gutter Chinese.

Simon sighs quietly and then slowly begins to reassemble himself. A slow grin spreads across his face at the thought of the effect desire delayed will have on Jayne.


End file.
